


Music and Memories

by exohousewarming, summerwines



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Family, Alternate Universe - High School, Classical Music, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Time Skips
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-16
Updated: 2017-09-16
Packaged: 2018-12-30 09:39:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12105909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/exohousewarming/pseuds/exohousewarming, https://archiveofourown.org/users/summerwines/pseuds/summerwines
Summary: Prompt number:308Side Pairings (if any):NoneWarnings:Swearing, Mild Alcohol UseSummary:As Kyungsoo struggled to clean the house and write more music, he stumbled onto certain items that brought back memories of a high school crush.





	Music and Memories

**Author's Note:**

> **Author Note:** So I took my prompter’s wonderful, amazing prompt and added a few things to it (i.e., Kyungsoo being a classical musician). The songs mentioned in this are all real. Also, Chanyeol actually played “River Flows in You” when he was on Roommate, thus inspiring that part of the story. Anyway. Hope you all enjoy!

The music Kyungsoo had always been accustomed to create rooted from the wildness and severity of his imagination, which rushed through him as he went through the measures. He played his piano with much force and conviction. This fact came up a number of times in the reviews for his albums - reviews which were mostly to his pleasure. His parents thought this was wonderful, though they could never play his music for more than a few minutes; their heads hurt too much to bear it.

His usual compositions were very much unlike the music that ran through his ear one Sunday morning, as he was groggy and half-awake under the bed covers. At first, he chalked it up to mere illusion and quickly returned to bed. But when he rose for his morning tea, he suddenly felt his ears creating this illusion once more, as if the whole phenomenon wasn’t an illusion at all.

When he stepped into the piano room, he saw no one who might have sat to play. Nothing, of course, had magically moved to create the tune he once heard as his heart burst with fondness and affection. He was younger, then, still learning what it meant to work with an instrument, the world of stages and orchestras still unknown to him. As he sat in front of the grand piano, he stared and tried to remember that moment from so many years ago. He stared at the keys, perhaps for a minute and a half, before he started to tap a few and then several more -- the first notes of Yiruma’s _River Flows in You_.

He hesitated to continue, hearing the clock tick, remembering there was something he had to get ready for. Kyungsoo realized this, though upon checking the time, he judged it to be enough for another playthrough.

This music, he thought, was just what he needed to clear his mind.

 

} Back then, when Kyungsoo first heard the song, he knew he’d always come back to it, one way or another.

He’d been holding Chanyeol’s hand, when Chanyeol finished playing. Kyungsoo watched Chanyeol’s fingers caress his, gently, as if he were Chanyeol’s most prized possession. When Chanyeol started to speak again, Kyungsoo felt nothing short of treasured.

“When I heard this song, I knew I just had to play it for you.”

“And why is that?” Kyungsoo said, trying his best to sound loving.

“The song is about life, right? New life, resurrection, all that stuff. And, well-”

“Oh, god.” Kyungsoo bit his lip and smiled at him. “I think I’d prefer that you didn’t say it.”

“Why not?” His eyebrows knitted.

Kyungsoo derided, “Because it’s embarrassing.”

“No, it isn’t.”

He huffed. “Well, fine then. Go on with it.”

Chanyeol kissed him, squarely, cupping Kyungsoo’s cheeks.

“You give me so much life, Kyungsoo. And that’s nothing to be embarrassed about.”

 

} The first time he laid eyes on Park Chanyeol, Kyungsoo was fifteen and he’d been with a group of neighborhood boys, swarming to stare up at the new kid, who at the time was the most novel thing their town had ever encountered. Jongdae stood beside Kyungsoo; both of them gazed amusedly at the sight of Chanyeol trying to climb one of the tallest trees in the neighborhood. Kyungsoo now understood why all the mothers thought he ought to be lectured on proper behavior for boys of his age. Though Kyungsoo had to admit, there was something magnetic about the way he laughed and screamed as he reached upper branches.

A series of cuss words reverberated across the town as Chanyeol declared himself king of everything, his limbs contorted as he tried to balance himself. Kyungsoo suffered a bout of laughter. Jongdae, meanwhile, chuckled and said, “Such an interesting guy, don’t you think?”

At the time, Kyungsoo didn’t know the answer to the question, though to be fair, it was meant to be rhetorical. At the end of the day, Chanyeol still meant nothing to him. He was just another person among a mass of people in their neighborhood.

The second time Kyungsoo encountered him - the first time they actually talked - was when things started to change. They’d been outside the local church, where Kyungsoo just finished playing for the choir. Jongdae came looking for Kyungsoo, with Chanyeol in tow, hoping to introduce them. They were all in their Sunday shirts, tight and uncomfortable, especially for Chanyeol, who visibly worked on undoing the whole prim and proper get up.

“So this is Chanyeol,” Jongdae said.

Chanyeol unfastened his topmost buttons before he offered a hand, which Kyungsoo accepted. He couldn’t read the look Chanyeol had in his eyes, though it was almost as if he were sizing Kyungsoo up. His hand, much bigger than Kyungsoo’s, was firm, a grip tighter than he expected.

“Nice to meet you,” Chanyeol said, smiling thoughtfully. He eyed Kyungsoo up and down. He just stood there for a moment before he sized Kyungsoo up again, then smiled once more, this time wider.

“You’re a pretty small guy, aren’t ‘ya?”

Kyungsoo blinked. He knitted his eyebrows and parted his lips. From beside him, he heard Jongdae burst out in laughter.

“Excuse me?”

“Oh--I didn’t mean--”

“Shush now, Chanyeol,” Jongdae said, patting him on the back. “Shush.”

“I’ll do you a favor and pretend you never said that,” Kyungsoo told him.

Chanyeol blushed. Kyungsoo wanted to laugh at his face.

“Off to a great start, aren’t we?” Jongdae said.

“I’m a fucking mess,” Chanyeol went, before unceremoniously rolling up his sleeves.

“Language,” Kyungsoo chided, knowing that churchgoers were still among them.

“Right,” Chanyeol smirked. “Sorry.”

Kyungsoo smiled back. Later on, he would lay some ground rules and make it clear to his new friend that he did not like being called tiny, or any synonym of such word. When Chanyeol tried to protest, Jongdae shut him up. As they walked to Kyungsoo’s house, Chanyeol put his arm around both their shoulders; Kyungsoo laughed at his jokes and took pleasure in his general company.

That same day, Jongdae dared Chanyeol to climb the tree again. He did, enthusiastically, asking Kyungsoo for some pep before he did so. For good measure, Kyungsoo held his shoulders and looked him in the eye, telling him this was something he was stupid to do, but it would totally be worth it to watch him royally fuck up.

Long story short, Kyungsoo found himself void of laughter as he nursed Chanyeol’s head on his lap. It was a moment he’d bring up again and again in the coming days, holding Chanyeol accountable for wasting his time, on such a fine spring day.

 

} Driving around the city, Kyungsoo still saw things that reminded him of his hometown. He might see young kids playing on the street, or a large compound that reminded him of the nearby factories, even a particular copse of trees that seemed to be arranged in much the same manner as those that were on the street where he lived many years ago. He’d imagine, for a moment, that he was driving back to his mother and father, going past the tallest tree, after a long day at school. But this image would only remain for a split second, as Kyungsoo was brought back to the reality of the moment. Today, he was off to KBS for a radio interview and he had to be in the right mental state to answer their questions.

Nothing would please Kyungsoo more than to have this over and done with at the soonest time. He wanted to go home immediately so he could clean the house, something he should’ve done weeks ago when the spring was still ripe. Truth be told, the atmosphere left by the dust and stacks of clutter gave him less and less peace as he tried to compose music.

These thoughts ran through Kyungsoo’s head as he shook his interviewer’s hands. It was a perky young woman, not beyond her twenties. Kyungsoo thought he might have seen her once on a shampoo commercial but he could never be sure.

“We’re so happy to have you here today,” she said, her smile almost blinding.

They introduced him to the audience: Do Kyungsoo, renowned concert pianist, with a new album of classic covers coming out this summer.

“Welcome to the show,” the MC said.

“Glad to be here.”

The conversation was not a lively one, though his interviews never ended up that way in the first place. He talked about his practice routines; he talked about his inspiration, how his auntie had made him listen to Mozart’s Turkish March over and over when he was little. He was asked about the songs he chose for the album and he answered matter-of-factly. At one point, he feared that he was starting to sound too academic, so Kyungsoo digressed, “Ah, I’m giving you an earful, aren’t I?”

“Not at all!” the MC said, though Kyungsoo already felt the awkward mood building up as he tapped his fingers on the radio desk.

When it was almost time for the segment to end, Kyungsoo started to feel relieved and he started to inch out of his seat. His left foot tapped on the floor, silently.

“So what do you plan to do today, Kyungsoo-ssi? Did you plan anything fun?”

He zoned out, for a moment. He was still thinking about cleaning the house. And as he planned it out in his head, he realized he needed to buy a duster.

“Kyungsoo-ssi?” the MC went, after Kyungsoo failed to give an immediate reply.

“Sorry,” Kyungsoo said. “I was just thinking about your question.”

The MC smiled, morosely. “Ah, so you must have something fun planned...”

Kyungsoo nodded. “Yes,” he said. “I’m going to buy a duster, and then I’m going to clean my house.”

She blinked at him. Appearing to realize that they were still on air, she quickly shifted in her seat to close the show. The face the MC made almost brought Kyungsoo to giggles. He felt sorry for her; he really did. But, he guessed, at the end of the day, what she thought didn’t really matter.

 

} For his sixteenth birthday, Kyungsoo’s parents bought him a pianoforte, which finally meant that Kyungsoo would no longer need to practice at the church or at his auntie’s house. From now on, he could fill his own home with the music he loved so much.

When Chanyeol found out about Kyungsoo’s gift, he expressed a sense of guilt, because he only got Kyungsoo a yellow beanie, although it was something he bought with a large sum of his allowance. Chanyeol told Kyungsoo of his feelings as they sat in Kyungsoo’s bedroom, Kyungsoo having just opened Chanyeol’s gift.

“They’re my parents, you know. You don’t have to one-up them.”

“But I do! I still have to make up for calling you small. And for helping me out when I fell off that tree.”

“Are you still on about that? Look, I’ve told you a thousand times that it’s not an issue anymore.”

“Aha! So you’re admitting that it _was_ an issue!”

“Haven’t I already? Well, it wasn’t exactly the nicest thing you could say to someone you literally just met.”

“I’m sorry!”

“And I forgive you.”

“No, you don’t.”

Kyungsoo rolled his eyes and smiled at him. “Look.” He took the beanie from his lap and wore it. “I’m wearing this beanie. And I think it’s a wonderful a beanie. Maybe it’s even better than the piano.”

Chanyeol gazed at him. He lifted his hands to adjust the beanie on Kyungsoo’s head, just enough to cover his temples. “You look cute in it,” he said.

“Shut up. Don’t ruin it.”

“Right,” Chanyeol sighed. “Though the piano is obviously a million times better than this. So I know you don’t really like it.”

“I do, though. I mean--I might.” _Because it’s from you_ , he wanted to say.

Afterwards, Chanyeol gave him what he called a “birthday hug.” They had a few minutes before Jongdae arrived and Kyungsoo reveled at the moments he had Chanyeol all to himself.

 _I think I might really, really like you_ , Kyungsoo wanted to say to him, but it only came out through the grip of his fingers on Chanyeol’s back.

 _I want to play you a song_ , he also wanted to say. But Kyungsoo thought it would be too embarrassing. He had never played alone in front of Chanyeol and he didn’t know if he’d ever be ready to do it. Instead, the idea was rerouted to the steady beat of his heart, which Kyungsoo swore he could hear, faintly, a soft melody that made his whole body ache.

 

} It had been a couple of years since Kyungsoo had done any thorough cleaning of his house, so he thought now would be as good a time as any to start wiping off the dust and uncovering old memories.

In doing this, he thought, perhaps, he could also find something that would help him compose again. This was why he was so peculiar in front of the radio host, who seemed flabbergasted by Kyungsoo’s fondness for cleaning.

Kyungsoo used the duster he just bought to brush away the specks of dirt that had gathered inside the storage room. Here, he found boxes hidden way that had not been opened since move-in day. Traces of home overwhelmed him: a photo album of his family, books that he used to read as a child, the yellow beanie Chanyeol gave him for his sixteenth birthday.

It proved difficult to wipe off the dust and pick out the fuzz off the beanie but Kyungsoo managed. He checked to see if it still fit and he found that it did, so Kyungsoo wore it, covering his forehead and temples, adjusting it every now and then, taking it off only when he felt an itch on his scalp. The photo album and the books were placed on the bedside table before Kyungsoo resumed to look through some more boxes.

The next thing he found made him want to down a glass of red wine, which he certainly did. It was an old envelope with Chanyeol’s handwriting on it. Inside, there was a letter, one that Kyungsoo read thousands of times when he was a teenager and all throughout his university days. Kyungsoo opened it and began to read, making sure he was a little bit buzzed so he wouldn’t lose the nerve.

_Dear Kyungsoo,_

_I know people usually send emails now, but bear with me, okay?_

_I wanted to let you know that I’ve started learning to play the piano and I think I’ll be asking my dad for a keyboard this Christmas. Which means I’ve got to make sure I don’t get into any trouble at school again. And you know how hard that is for me, right? Pity me, Kyungsoo._

_Kidding aside, when we see each other again, which I hope will be soon, we should definitely try playing something together. Preferably a pop song, because I’m pretty sure I won’t be able to play anything by Mozart or Brahms anytime soon._

_I’m trying very hard to learn, Kyungsoo. I hope you’re still trying too. You’ve still been playing, right? I won’t forgive you if you stopped, you know. So you have no choice but to get better and better and better!!!!!_

_And, also, before things get any more awkward, I just want to tell you that I meant what I said before I left town. And I just want to emphasize that I kissed you not because I pitied you, or because I was sad about leaving. I kissed you because I like you and I kind of want to marry you and have kids with you someday, if that’s okay. I know I don’t have money, or anything much to offer, and you might be better off with someone else, but if you do choose me, I’ll be good to you, I’ll be the best, I swear it. So think about it, okay?_

_If you say no, that’s up to you. Just, please, don’t ever give up on the things you love._

_Sincerely,  
Chanyeol_

 

} Things took a turn for the worse when they were seventeen and Chanyeol told him his parents were being transferred yet again to another office, this time inside the city. He had to leave. Kyungsoo hadn’t told him how much he liked him and already, Chanyeol was moving out of his reach.

“I want to stay,” Chanyeol said, sitting stiffly on Kyungsoo’s porch. “But there’s nothing I can do about it.”

“I know that,” Kyungsoo said. He leaned against the doorframe and stared up at the sky, squinting. “Doesn’t make it any better.”

The night before Chanyeol left, Kyungsoo played for him: two songs, then another, and another, until his fingers grew tired of playing all these songs in his repertoire, mostly marches and ragtime, and it became unbearable not to look behind him, where Chanyeol was sitting, watching. Chanyeol drew near him and they sat next to each other. “Can I hug you?” he asked and Kyungsoo nodded. He rested his head on Chanyeol’s shoulder and for a moment, everything was okay.

Kyungsoo didn’t expect for Chanyeol to kiss him that night but he did and it was horrible, and wet, and it made Kyungsoo want to jump off a cliff and swim in the ocean, hear nothing but the water rushing inside his ears.

“Let’s write to each other, okay?” Chanyeol said, before he went on and broke Kyungsoo’s heart. “God, _fuck_ , I love you so much.”

Kyungsoo couldn’t bear to look at him. He put his forehead on Chanyeol’s shoulder and he didn’t say anything back. Nor did he say anything for the rest of the night.

A few weeks later, Jongdae caught him staring blankly at a music book as he sat on the floor. “You haven’t been rehearsing as often,” Jongdae said, looming over him. “Don’t make me tell Chanyeol.”

“Give me time,” Kyungsoo said, looking up. “I’m just in a bit of a funk.”

Jongdae narrowed his eyes, then sighed. “Whatever you say,” he said.

A month later, Kyungsoo got the letter from Chanyeol. He stared at the envelope for a good thirty minutes before he opened it up and gave it a read. When he finished, he came to several conclusions:

1\. Jongdae probably told him how he’d been neglecting to practice.

2\. He loved Chanyeol way too much.

3\. Chanyeol loved him too.

4\. Knowing this fact was too much for his heart.

and 5. Kyungsoo had no choice but to write back.

 

_Dear Chanyeol,_

_I’ll keep this short._

_I do hope you could come to visit as soon as you can. I’m having a recital soon and maybe you could watch. I’ll attach the details here._

_Also, I love you too and if you want to get married someday, I wouldn’t be opposed to it._

_Let’s write to each other more often, okay? And make sure to stay healthy._

_Sincerely,  
Kyungsoo_

 

} Kyungsoo found the letter he sent tucked into one of his college textbooks. He remembered how hard it was to start writing. But he also remembered how good it felt to finish, no matter how short it turned out to become. He later found some of Chanyeol’s photos that he’d kept when they were off to different universities, both of them music schools, but in completely different cities. The photos were grainy and they showed Chanyeol in a baseball outfit, Chanyeol dressed as a 1980s rockstar, Chanyeol at the beach, Chanyeol and Kyungsoo with their faces smacked together in front of a camera phone. Kyungsoo fingered through them, smiling.

When he finished cleaning the house, he went to the piano room and aired out some of his emotions on the keys. He tried to start an original song, trying to feel out several combinations of major and minor chords. When the sound of it started to please him, Kyungsoo laid out a composition book and started to plot out a few notes.

Kyungsoo swore that _River Flows in You_ started playing through the walls again but this time, he didn’t freak out. Instead, he let it continue in his head and tried to create something out of its tune. He didn’t make it past two measures but he thought it would be forgivable for today.

He grew weary as the afternoon waned and as he downed another glass of wine, so Kyungsoo made coffee for himself and sat on the living room couch. The silence made his heart hurt and quite frankly, he couldn’t wait for someone to break it.

Kyungsoo almost reached for the remote control of the television, but then, he heard the door open from behind him.

When Kyungsoo saw who it was, he grinned from ear to ear. The sound of footsteps and the sound of two distinct voices, one deep, the other small and shrill: They were music to his ears.

“Welcome home,” he said, “Welcome home, you two.”

 

} The day Chanyeol came to visit, he watched Kyungsoo’s recital and Kyungsoo kissed him and pulled him out of the theater once everything was over. Later that day, Chanyeol played Kyungsoo a sad song and told Kyungsoo that he gave him life, so much life.

There was only so much Kyungsoo could do not to combust on his seat. For playing him such a beautiful song, Kyungsoo punished Chanyeol by pushing his tongue down Chanyeol’s throat. Though he thought, perhaps, Chanyeol might not actually see this as a punishment after all.

“When we get married, do you think we’ll have enough money to buy our own house?”

Chanyeol laughed into Kyungsoo hair. He hugged him tighter and Kyungsoo had never felt better.

“Is _that_ what you’re thinking about? Really?”

“Houses are expensive these days, Chanyeol. We have to think forward, especially now that we’re both going to work in music. We’re bound to have a hard time starting out. So what then?”

Chanyeol smirked at him. “I guess we’ll have to work our asses off, yeah? We’ll play for every single show and audition for every single thing we can. Then our kid can go to one of those fancy schools with the cute uniforms.”

Kyungsoo smiled. “I’d like that,” he said, kissing Chanyeol again. “You think she’ll be smart?”

“She? Oh, our baby? Of course he will!”

“He? Oh. Well, she’s got _me_ for a father, so-”

“Are you telling me I’m dumb?”

“Well you’re not exactly _smart_.”

“Alright, fine, but at least I’m a good kisser.”

Kyungsoo smiled and bit his lower lip. Chanyeol blushed and pouted and Kyungsoo grew certain that everything about this night was perfect. The kiss they shared was slow and chaste. As they parted, Kyungsoo gasped. He could feel their hearts beating almost in sync as he kissed Chanyeol again and again.

“You’d make a beautiful husband,” Chanyeol said.

Kyungsoo kissed him again, quickly, on the cheek. The thought of them calling each other _husband_ was enough to make him embarrassingly giddy. “Right. _Husband_. God, it’s really gonna happen.”

“Exciting, isn’t it?”

Kyungsoo nodded vigorously, circling his arms around Chanyeol’s neck. “Yes,” he said, nodding more, as he buried himself into Chanyeol’s warm body. “Yes, god, yes.”

 

} “Welcome home.”

Chanyeol dropped to the couch and let out a heavy sigh. Their three-year-old, Soomin, ran off to her room to play. Kyungsoo heard her yell about the toys being rearranged and Kyungsoo laughed before he kissed his husband on the cheek.

“So how was your trip?” Kyungsoo said, smiling up at him.

“Ahhh, geez. It was a lot, let me tell you. But grandma Park was happy to see our little girl so I guess it’s all good.”

Kyungsoo lifted a hand and started to fix Chanyeol’s hair. He was so full of love today and he wanted so much to keep Chanyeol in his breast pocket and pamper him. “I’m sorry I couldn’t go,” he went.

“Nah, it’s fine. You had the radio thing, right? How was it?”

“Awkward,” Kyungsoo said. “So, you know, the usual.”

“Figures.” Chanyeol hooked an arm around Kyungsoo’s shoulders. He was warm, as always. “But did you manage to get anything done today?”

“If you’d take some time to look, you’ll notice that everything’s cleaner.”

“Is it? I think you might’ve missed a spot on the floor over there.”

Kyungsoo punched his chest.

“I’m only kidding. You did great.” He kissed Kyungsoo on the lips this time, soft.

“I started writing today,” Kyungsoo told him. “Barely two measures done but I suddenly got this burst of inspiration.”

“Oh? From where?”

“I found a few things from high school. And not to sound fake deep, but seeing all these things again got me thinking.”

An amused expression lingered on Chanyeol’s face. “Hm,” he went. “What did you find?”

For the sake of a better story, Kyungsoo brought out the beanie and the two letters from where he left them in the bedroom. Together, Kyungsoo and Chanyeol read through the letters and they laughed about how stupid they both were, back then. Chanyeol told him how much he missed this and how this didn’t seem like him at all anymore. Soomin returned to the living room, then, and Kyungsoo carried her on his lap, hugged her tight as Chanyeol read Kyungsoo’s letter again, smiling as he did so.

“Appa, what are you reading?” Soomin said.

“Ah, I’m just reading a letter from your dad from _waaaay_ back.” Chanyeol ruffled her hair and she squinted, huffed.

“What did he say?” she asked, struggling out of Kyungsoo’s arms so she could take a peek at the letter.

“Well-” Soomin looked at Chanyeol intently. Kyungsoo smiled at the sight. “Your dad tells me that he really, really loves me. And--ah, he also says he wants to marry me. He’s very sweet, don’t you think?”

Soomin smiled and turned her head back and forth to look at both of her dads. Kyungsoo leaned down to kiss the top of her head and he told her that it was all true, “I love your father very much. And I love you too, my little angel.”

She giggled through her father’s kiss and she giggled some more when Chanyeol started to tickle her. Later that day, they made sure Soomin got to sleep early so she’d have the energy for her playdate tomorrow. As the night waned, Chanyeol and Kyungsoo stayed in their piano room, where Kyungsoo asked Chanyeol if he could play that song again. “I think I’ve been playing it in my head,” Kyungsoo said. “I’ve been trying to remember exactly how you played it back then but I think...I think I need to hear it from you.”

Chanyeol tried to play, but he was stiff and out of touch since he’d been playing guitar for most of his career producing music. Kyungsoo loved it anyway, especially as the music reached a crescendo and Chanyeol started to press the keys with more force.

“Does it sound the same as it did before?”

“No, it doesn’t. But that’s okay.”

Every now and then, Kyungsoo found himself in a rut with his music. No matter how long he’d been in the business, it never got easier. But he thought, perhaps, after all these years, he might have been looking at all the wrong places for inspiration.

When Kyungsoo woke the next morning to a hearty breakfast and a happy family, he swore he had never been happier. As he dressed his daughter in her cap and her jacket, as he helped Chanyeol wear his tie, as he drove them both to where they needed to go, a stream of children’s music playing in the car, Kyungsoo felt that he might not really miss the past after all. The memories would just always be there at the back of his mind -- things that would continue to shape what he was growing to become.

 _The both of you give me life_ , Kyungsoo wanted to say, but honest communication still wasn’t his strong suit.

But that did not mean that he didn’t try. Kyungsoo kissed their cheeks, hugged them tightly, and promised to see them later.

He hoped that the gestures would help get the message across: that he loved them dearly that he was the luckiest person in the world, that they gave him life, that they gave him beautiful music, playing in his ear without a let up, without a pause, wild and severe, something etched within him for the rest of his life.

The End

**Author's Note:**

> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/lc_sweetwine) | [Tumblr](http://fantasticmrlc.tumblr.com/)


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